Part 26

“‘If Mr. Hughes’ statements, when he makes them, shall satisfy the committee that it is for the interest of the country that he be elected, they can act accordingly and treat my refusal as definitely accepted. If they are not satisfied they can so notify the Progressive party, and at the same time, they can confer with me and then determine on whatever action we may severally deem appropriate to meet the needs of the country.’

“‘I move,’ said James R. Garfield, ‘that the letter of Colonel Roosevelt be received in the spirit in which it is meant, and that it be referred to the National Committee, with power to act thereon.’

“The motion was carried, and at 5 P. M. the Progressive Convention, the liveliest in the history of politics, came to an end with the playing of the national air.”

The closing scenes of the Republican Convention were as cold and as unemotional as was the reverse in the body sitting in the other hall, so close at hand. I, myself, went from one spot to the other, torn with conflicting emotions. In the Republican Convention there had been no enthusiasm whatsoever for any candidate up to the moment when Senator Fall, of New Mexico, put the name of Theodore Roosevelt in nomination. Then, and then only, did the thousands of people in that great auditorium rise to their feet with one prolonged shout of approval. The delegates--and, alas! it is the delegates to a convention, not the people, who apparently choose the men who are to govern the people--were cold and unresponsive no matter what name was put before them, and, were it possible, they were even colder, even more unresponsive, when Theodore Roosevelt’s name was mentioned than they were at any other time; but the masses--they were neither cold nor unresponsive! How they cheered as that beloved name was heard for the first time in that Republican Convention! Over and over again the chairman tried to bring the convention to order. No blaring bands, no stimulated marchings, were the cause of the great ovation. It was actually and vividly the cry of those who wanted a leader and wanted _their_ leader that was heard in that great hall, but there was no echo in the hearts of those who held the balance of power in their hands. That evening there was printed in one of the Chicago newspapers so exquisite a rhapsody, so loving a swan song, that I can but reproduce it.

AH! TEDDY DEAR

Ah, Teddy dear, and did ye hear the news that’s goin’ round?

They say you’re gone from off the stage, that strange cold men, whom we respect but love not, must be our meat for all the campaign days to come.

Gray is the prospect; dull is the outlook.

We felt all the while that over in the Auditorium and the Coliseum they were breaking to us the news of a death in the family. They were merciful; they held it back; they did not let us have the shock of it all at once. They meant kindly.

But now that the news has come the kindness of friends can help but little. Our hearts are broke! We need you and we want you every minute.

Ah the fun of you and the glory of you!

Where lies the American whose passion or whose imagination you have not set a-tingling? Who else has meant the savor of life for us? Who but you has taken us and set our feet upon the high places?

Before you came, all in politics was set and regular. Those who were ordained to rule over us did so with that gravity with which stupid grown-ups so oft repress the child. No one ever talked to us as you did. They called us “voters” or “constituents” or such big names as these. They never took us by the hand and laughed and played with us as you did.

They never understood us. They could preach Sunday school and arithmetic. But the good Lord never gave it to them to speak to the heart.

And then you came!

Dancing down the road you came with life and love and courage and fun stickin’ out all over you. How we loved you at the first sight! And how you loved us!

Friends we were, tho’ you were in the White House and we were making mud pies. Friends we were together with nothing to come between us.

Your love would let no harm come near us and we knew it. With your courage you fought for us. With your life and your fun you took us out of the drab grind.

You told us of the birds in the air and of the fishes in the sea. The great tales of the old heroes, the sagas of the past, you spread before our ’stonished eyes. You gave us new words--delightful words--to play with; and jokes--delightful jokes--to make us laugh.

How we wanted you back when you went away! But they stole our right from us and they wouldn’t let you come back. So we followed you. Four million of us, in a fight the like of which we never knew. Joy and religion were in it in equal measure. Hymns and cleanness and color and battle all were jumbled in it. The good of it is set forever into the life of the nation.

But the schoolmaster beat you, and the Great War came to crowd you from our thoughts. We thought only of ourselves because you were no longer there to make us think of our country. At last we turned to you--when it was too late.

So now we are not to have you. We must go stumbling on alone, hoping that the man they’ve given us may show something of that fire and strength upon which you taught us to rely.

It’s our fault, not theirs. It’s our fault, not yours. You warned us that we must be ready to go thru to the end. We weren’t. Fear had come upon us, fear of ourselves. We were split up. We eyed each other with distrust. The spirit of your old sagas had gone from us.

Now we must face it alone, unless you help us. Do not forsake us to sulk in your tent. Make the sacrifice they demand, not for their sake but for ours. Help them win with the cold, good man they’ve chosen. Help that man to hold his courage and fight worthily for the things which you have taught us--tho the real right to fight for them was yours, not his. Don’t let our councils be divided. Don’t let hotheaded friends force their personal claims upon you.

But whatever you do or whatever you don’t do, be sure of one thing--we shall never hold it against you. For all that is gone, you can do no wrong in our sight. The memory of you shall never fade from our hearts.

Ah, Teddy dear--we love you now and always.[B]

[B] From the Chicago _Evening Post_, June, 1916. The article was written by Julian Mason, the gifted son of one who had been a hospitable host of Theodore Roosevelt when, as a young man, he wrote “The Winning of the West.”

XVI

“DO IT NOW”

Sad America Dreamed in the distance as a charmed thing Till Roosevelt, like Roland, blew his horn.

--John Jay Chapman.

One who rang true when traitor thoughts were rife, One who led straight through all the years of strife.

--From _Horace Mann School Record_.

I went to Sagamore Hill the very moment that I returned from Chicago after that exciting convention. In fact, I took the first train possible to Oyster Bay. My heart was aflame, for it seemed to me then, as it has seemed to me frequently in such contests (nor does this refer solely to contests in which my brother took part), that the will of the people had been frustrated.

My brother was seated in the library when I arrived at Sagamore Hill, and when I burst out, “Theodore--the people wanted you. It seems terrible to me that they could not have you,” he answered, with a smile that had a subtle meaning in it: “Do not say that; if they had wanted me _hard_ enough, they could have had me.” By which he meant that after all, if enough citizens in our great country would take seriously the duties of citizenship, the delegates to our conventions would have to do their will. From that moment, putting himself entirely aside, his whole thought, his whole effort were given to the achievement of what he considered the vital need for his country; namely, the election of the Republican candidate. Waiting until Mr. Hughes had definitely stated his policy, Colonel Roosevelt, upon that statement, immediately sent to the Progressive Convention, which met within a few weeks, a letter stating his position as follows:

“_Gentlemen_: In accordance with the message I sent to the National Progressive Convention as soon as I had received the notification that it had nominated me for President, I now communicate to you my reasons for declining the honor which I so deeply appreciate.... Before speaking of anything else, I wish to express my heartiest and most unstinted admiration for the character and services of the men and women who made up the National Progressive Convention in 1916.... They represent the spirit which moved Abraham Lincoln and his political associates during the decade preceding the close of the Civil War. The platform put forth in 1912 was much the most important public document promulgated in this country since the death of Abraham Lincoln. It represented the first effort, on a large scale, to translate abstract formulas of economic and social justice into concrete American nationalism....

“Events have shown us that the Progressive party in 1912 offered the only alternative to the triumph of the Democratic party.... The results of the terrible world war of the past two years have now made it evident to all who are willing to see, that in this country there must be spiritual and industrial preparedness, along the lines of efficient and loyal service to the nation, and of practical application of the precept that ‘each man must be his brother’s keeper.’ Furthermore, it is no less evident that this preparedness for the days of peace forms the only sound basis for that indispensable military preparedness based on military universal training, and which finds expression in universal obligatory service in time of war. Such universal obligatory training and service are necessary complements of universal suffrage and represent the realization of the true American, the democratic ideal in both peace and war.

“Sooner or later, the national principles championed by the Progressives of 1912 must, in their general effect, be embodied in the structure of our national existence. With all my heart, I shall continue to work for these great ideals, shoulder to shoulder with the men and women, who, in 1912, championed them.... The method however by which we are to show our loyalty must be determined in each case by the actual event. Our loyalty is to the fact, to the principle, to the ideal, and not merely to the name, and least of all, to the party name. The Progressive movement has been given an incalculable impetus by what the Progressive party has done. Our strongest party organizations have accepted and enacted into law, or embodied in their party platforms many of our most important principles. Yet it has become entirely evident that the people under existing conditions are not prepared to accept a new party.... Under such circumstances, our duty is to do the best we can and not to sulk because our leadership is rejected.--It is unpatriotic to refuse to do the best possible, merely because the people have not put us in a position to do what we regard as the very best.... In my judgment, the nomination of Mr. Hughes meets the conditions set forth in the statement of the Progressive National Committee, issued last January and in my own statements. Under existing conditions, the nomination of a third ticket would, in my judgment, be merely a move in the interest of the election of Mr. Wilson. I regard Mr. Hughes as a man whose public record is a guarantee that he will not merely stand for a program of clean-cut, straight principles before election but will resolutely and in good faith put them through if elected. It would be a grave detriment to the country to re-elect Mr. Wilson. I shall, therefore, strongly support Mr. Hughes. Such being the case, it is unnecessary to say that I cannot accept the nomination on a third ticket. I do not believe that there should be a third ticket. I believe that when my fellow Progressives actually consider the question, they will, for the most part, take this position.

“They and I have but one purpose,--the purpose to serve our common country. It is my deep conviction that at this moment we can serve it only by supporting Mr. Hughes.”

From that moment, “squaring,” as he always did, “conviction with action,” Theodore Roosevelt set his strong shoulder to the political wheel which he hoped with all his heart would put Charles E. Hughes into the White House.

In my brother’s own “Autobiography” he says: “I have always had a horror of words that are not translated into deeds, of speech that does not result in action; in other words, I believe in realizable ideals and in realizing them; in preaching what would be practicable and then practising it.”

He put the same idea in somewhat different words in a speech in that very campaign of 1916: “Of course, the vital thing for the nation to remember is that while dreaming and talking both have their uses, these uses must chiefly exist in seeing the dream realized and the talking turned into action.... Ideals that are so lofty as always to be unrealizable have a place,--sometimes an exceedingly important place in the history of mankind--_if_ the attempt, at least partially to realize them is made; but, in the long run, what most helps forward the common run of humanity in this work-a-day world, is the possession of realizable ideals and the sincere attempt to realize them.”

Never did my brother more earnestly fulfil the convictions expressed in the above sentence than in his campaign for the election of Mr. Hughes. Never did he give himself more selflessly, and with more tireless zeal, than when he tried to put one so lately a rival for the presidential nomination into the White House, because of his strong belief that to do so would be for the good of his beloved country.

On June 23, just before the meeting of the Progressive Convention, he writes to me: “I should like to show you my letter to the National Committee which will appear on Monday afternoon. I will then, I trust, finish my active connections with Politics.” And again, in another letter on July 21, he says: “For six years I have been, I believe, emphatically right, emphatically the servant of the best interests of the American people; but just as emphatically,--the American people have steadily grown to think less and less of me, and more definitely determined not to use me in any public position, and it is their affair after all. Your Teddy [my son at the time was running for the nomination for New York State Senator] may experience the same fate and may find that through no fault of his,--in my case the fault may have been mine,--his talents may be passed by.”

It is interesting to note that although so frequently a justified prophet in national affairs, my brother’s prophecies concerning himself rarely came true. The above prophecy was no exception to this rule, for during the years to come, the Republican party was to turn once more to Theodore Roosevelt as its greatest leader, and to pledge its support to him both inferentially and actually in their great effort to make him the nominee for governor of New York State. In the campaign of 1918 the leaders of the Republican party turned to him as almost one man, feeling as they did that his election again to that position would positively secure him the election to the presidency in 1920.

Perhaps the hardest thing for him to bear connected with the political situation in 1916 was the keen disappointment of those Progressives for whom he had such devoted affection when he refused to run on the Progressive ticket as the candidate for President. He felt that in the hearts of many there was, in spite of their personal devotion to him, a sense of disillusion, and he tried with earnest effort to make them see the point of view which he was convinced was the right point of view, which made him support the candidate of the Republican party.

A Mrs. Nicholson, of Oregon, for whom he had a sincere regard, having written to him on the subject, he answers on July 18, 1916:

“My dear Mrs. Nicholson: ... You say you do not understand ‘Why we men make such a fetich of parties.’ I cannot understand how you include me with the men who do so. Four years ago I declined to make a fetich of the Republican party, when to do so meant dishonor to the nation, and this year I declined to make a fetich of the Progressive party when to do so meant dishonor to honor. I agree with you that issues and men are the things that count. A party is good only as a means to an end. Nevertheless, we have to face the fact that has been made strikingly evident during the past four years that with ninety per cent of our country-men the party name of itself has a certain fetichistic power, and we would be very foolish if we did not take this into account in endeavoring to work for good results. Moreover, it is unfortunately true that the dead hand of a party sometimes paralyzes its living members. The ancestral principles of the Democratic party are so bad it seems to be entirely impossible for it to be useful to the country except in spasms.

“I believe Mr. Hughes to be honest and to have the good of his country at heart.”

He was not able to visit us in our country home on the Mohawk Hills, as we had hoped he might possibly do, during that summer, but on October 5 he writes to me: “I fear I shall be West on the 25th, otherwise I should jump at the chance to lunch with you and Fanny at the Colony Club. Can I accept for the first subsequent day when I find that you and she are available? I am now being worked to the limit by the Hughes people who are the very people who four months ago were explaining that I had ‘no strength.’... I most earnestly desire to win; I, above all things, do not wish to sulk, and therefore, from now on my time is to be at the disposal of the National Committee. Of course, Teddy’s nomination meant far more to me personally than anything else in this campaign. I look forward eagerly to seeing you. Do look at my _Metropolitan Magazine_ article which is just out. I think you will like the literary style!” The “literary style” was combined with a certain amount of plain talk in this particular instance!

On October 12 Colonel Roosevelt, taking the exploits of the German submarine U-boat 53 off the shores of America as a text, launched an urgent protest. Colonel Roosevelt declared that the conduct of the war had led to a “complete breakdown of the code of international rights.” The man who as long ago as in his inauguration speech in March, 1905, inveighed against the “peace of the coward,” was stirred to red-blooded indignation at the Democratic slogan of that campaign of 1916, which laid all the stress on “He kept us out of war,” a sentence which Colonel Roosevelt described as “utterly misleading.”

He said:

“Now that the war has been carried to our very shores, there is not an American who does not realize the awful tragedy of our indifference and our inaction. Nine-tenths of wisdom is being wise in time. By taking the right step at the right time, America’s influence and leadership might have been made a stabilizing force.

“In actual reality, war has been creeping nearer and nearer until it stares at us from just beyond our three-mile limit, and we face it without policy, plan, purpose, or preparation. No sane man can to-day be so blind as to believe President Wilson’s original statement that the war was no concern of ours. Every thinking man must realize the utter futility of a statesmanship without plan or policy until such facts as these now stare us in the face.”

Such were the virile statements used many times during the following campaign. One of the most interesting human documents connected with Theodore Roosevelt during this period was written by a young reporter, Edwin N. Lewis, in private letters to his own family, from the special train upon which Theodore Roosevelt travelled for one of the most active ten days of his active life, during which he urged the American people to accept the Republican candidate. With Mr. Lewis’s permission, I am quoting from these interesting letters, written by the kind of young American for whom my brother had the warmest and most friendly feeling, the kind of young American whose family life had been such that he wished to share with his family whatever was of interest in his life.

The first letter, dated October 17, 1916, begins:

“Just getting into Rochester--7 P. M.--Dear Ma:--The big tour is on. I was presented to Colonel Roosevelt by his secretary before the train pulled out. Since there are only three correspondents in the party, he insists that we eat in his private car with him. The trip is going to be a little family party with the Colonel a sort of jovial master of ceremonies. He permits me, a stranger, to take part in the conversation with the group. In fact, I feel, now, after my experiences at luncheon, that I have known him a long while. He is just as remarkable, energetic, mentally alert and forcible as his chroniclers picture him. I could entertain you and pa for an evening with the stories he told this noon, and dinner is coming in a half hour! Wonderful meals too,--with the New York Central chefs straining every effort to give Theodore Roosevelt something fine to eat. Cronin of _The Sun_ and Yoder of the United Press are the only other newspaper men along.... Tomorrow we face a busy day. From Cincinnati, we turn down through a mountain section of Kentucky which has never seen a President, an ex-President or a Presidential candidate. Mountaineers will drive from miles around to see the man they have worshipped for years. The Colonel makes thirteen stops between Falmouth and Louisville. I realize how you are thinking of me on this trip. It helps me to make good.”

Leaving Louisville, Ky., October 18, 11 P. M.: